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Raven grabbed her car keys. “Since I’m buying, it’s a good thing we had such profitable events last night.”
Abigail had rung up a lot of purchases, but according to the text she received when Raven finally made it home, the downtown event had been even more successful.
Between the three of them and a couple of helpers from the club, they loaded the van in no time. And while she and Raven said goodbye, Hayes waited in the bar.
She saw him sitting at the same table they’d occupied last night, once again wearing his suit coat, and with two cups and a plate of bite-size scones in front of him. Across the middle was a long, wrapped present.
Drawing her eyebrows together, she approached. With old-world charm, he stood when she reached his side.
Sliding onto the stool was easier in leggings than it had been in a corset and skirt.
When she was comfortable, he took his seat again.
“What you did for Raven was really special.”
“She’s your friend.” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if that was all that needed to be said.
She pulled her cup toward her. “You’ve got to stop spoiling me.”
“Do I?”
Her first sip surprised her. She expected a cappuccino like last night, but this was a famous New Orleans café au lait. A perfect complement to the petite pastries he’d purchased.
“It’s time you knew I have ulterior motives.”
The bottom dropped out of her tummy. A moment ago, his voice had been cordial. Now it held a note of authority. “Oh?” Last night she’d wondered if he wanted to scene. After her dreams, she’d hoped he had.
He indicated the gift on the far side of the table. “When I dropped off my present last night, Santa’s elf informed me I would receive one in return. Aviana gave it to me a few minutes ago.”
“Then it’s yours.”
He shook his head. “I want you to have it.”
“Hayes…”
“Open it, then make a decision as to whether you’d like to keep it.”
The suggestion was so reasonable that she nodded her agreement.
He placed the package in front of her. “Go ahead.”
More excited than she should be, she tore open the paper.
It was a crop. But the far end of the long, thin leather-wrapped shaft didn’t have a traditional flapper. Instead, it was topped with a puffy silver star, perfect for the holidays.
Against her better instincts, she wanted to keep it.
“May I?”
“Yes, of course.” She offered the toy to him.
He struck the star against his open palm, and the thuddy sound filled her ears, melting her resistance.
She looked at him. Was there any other man in the world?
“We have the club almost to ourselves.”
“What do you have in mind?” Her words emerged a little slower than normal as her brain began a familiar, welcome descent into a submissive mindset. Though she’d been determined to avoid any entanglement, every part of her yearned to experience what he offered.
